


Entanglement

by ladymac111



Series: Quantum Universe [1]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Academy Fic, F/M, Pre-Romance, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-04-12
Updated: 2011-04-12
Packaged: 2017-10-18 00:11:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/182852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladymac111/pseuds/ladymac111
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cadet Uhura bumps into someone on her way to class, and can't imagine the ways their lives will become entangled. Pre-movie Spock/Uhura development. Soft sexual content.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Cadet Nyota Uhura sprinted up the steps of the physics hall, desperately clutching her bag. It was the first week of the first semester of her first year at Starfleet Academy, and she was late for class. Nearly twenty minutes late, actually. Her roommate, an Orion named Gaila, had brought three boys to their room the night before. The noise of them coming in had awoken her around 02:00, and she had pretended to sleep for the next hour and a half. What's the point of having a code word, she wondered, if your roommate doesn't care if you watch her get it on with three guys at once? They needed to set a few more rules.

As a result, Nyota had slept through her alarm, woken at 08:10 for her 08:00 Celestial Mechanics class, and was very grateful that her cousin Nidal had persuaded her to cut her long hair and wear it natural as an incoming cadet. The afro was low-maintenance and kept her head a little warmer on chilly September mornings before the fog burned off. San Francisco was more different from Kenya than she had anticipated.

She reached the top of the steps, charged through the door, and bounced off a soft wall in a cadet uniform. It made a quiet "oof." She stumbled and dropped her bag, and the armful of PADDs the other cadet was carrying clattered to the floor.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" She started to retrieve some of the PADDs that had scattered across the lobby.

"It was an accident," replied the other cadet in a voice that seemed far too steady, considering he had just dropped at least twenty... Uhura looked at the PADD in her hand. It had her name on it. In fact, it was the paper she had turned in the day before for her Intermediate Phonology class.

"What's this?" She looked over at him.

He stood up and leveled his gaze at her. "I am a teaching assistant for Xenolinguistics, and I just finished marking these essays."

Uhura couldn't help but stare a bit. His full height was impressive, at least six feet, and he was long and lean in a very attractive way. His pale skin contrasted his straight black hair, but she saw he had dark bags under his eyes. It was him! The only Vulcan in Starfleet, and he had just graded her introductory essay. Which she had elected to write in Vulcan. He looked at her, expecting her to speak. "Oh."

Suddenly she remembered herself. "I'm sorry, I really have to go, or Professor Pickett will rake me over the coals." She set the PADDs she had collected on the stack beside him, grabbed her bag, and raced off down the hallway.

XXXXX

Uhura's Phonology discussion section met for the first time on Tuesday of the next week. She arrived half an hour early, using her first time of quiet all day to look at her essay, which Commander Xiu hadn't returned until Monday. The prompt had been to describe their history and aspirations as related to linguistics, and to write it in any Federation language other than Standard or their first language. Nyota had grown up speaking five Earth languages and learned Vulcan at a young age, but she figured it counted. She had addressed it in her essay, at any rate.

The Vulcan TA had made only a few marks on the assignment, she was surprised to discover. There were a few minor grammatical anomalies, and a phrase he had marked as "human idiom, meaningless in Vulcan." At the end, Commander Xiu had made a longer comment, and at the very bottom, below the grade, the TA had written a final note: "Exceptional work for a first-year."

Uhura beamed at the PADD. From a Vulcan, that was a very sincere compliment, practically gushing even. She finished reading the comments, and was getting out her problem set when the door opened. She turned, expecting to see a classmate. Instead, she made eye contact with a surprised Vulcan. He quickly composed himself, and she stood at attention.

"You are here for the Intermediate Phonology discussion section?"

"Yes." She felt a blush prickle up her neck under his intense gaze. "Cadet Nyota Uhura, sir."

"I am not a superior officer. There is no need for formality." He came into the room and set his satchel in the corner.

"Sorry. I haven't figured this all out yet." She sat back down heavily.

"You are a first-year. It is normal." He moved to write on the board:

Phonology Discussion  
TA: Fourth-year Cadet Spock

She made a note of it. She hadn't known many Vulcans, but Spock seemed different. His eyebrows had lifted when he came in and saw her, something she had never seen another Vulcan do. And he seemed a little nervous, as he puttered (to the extent you could call it that) around an the front. It was deliberate, but she sensed tension, a desire to keep busy. She wondered if it was because she was there early.

"Thanks for your comments on my paper."

He glanced up. "It was very well-written, though the language is perhaps not suited to the emotional components of your thesis."

"You're fluent in Vulcan, aren't you?"

"It is my first language."

She expected him to ask something of her, like when she had learned it. But that was in her essay, and Spock simply went back to what he was doing. Small talk didn't seem to be working.

"So if you're in Xenolinguistics, why were you leaving Physics so early the other day?"

"I am not majoring in Xenolinguistics. I spent Thursday night working on my thesis project in subspace mechanics."

"So you're a Physics major?"

"Yes. And computer science. I also felt it prudent to minor in linguistics, and the faculty find me useful."

There was a pause before Uhura spoke again. "Is it weird for you, being the only Vulcan here?"

"I do not understand your question."

"I mean, don't you get lonely for familiar faces, or anything?"

Spock looked thoughtful for a moment. "No. However, I often visited this region as a child. My maternal grandparents reside in Vancouver."

That was legitimately surprising. How did he have family on Earth? Extremely few Vulcans lived here, and they preferred equatorial Africa. "Your grandparents chose to live in the Pacific Northwest? Isn't that cold for them?"

He studied her a moment. "No. My grandparents are human and claim to enjoy the climate."

That one took a bit longer to sink in. "But ... you don't?"

"The climate is irrelevant. I am here to learn."

A gaggle of other students came in, giggling and chattering. They were older, and Uhura didn't know them well. She sighed, and went back to her work. There would be plenty of time to get to know Spock. She decided to arrive early every week.


	2. Chapter 2

The semester wore on, and Phonology discussion quickly became one of the highlights of Uhura's week. Spock always arrived at the same time, and the other students started showing up later and later, so each week their conversations got longer. It was mostly small talk or linguistics-related, but she felt them growing closer, and Spock seemed less awkward around her. He didn't seem to realize that even his tiny motions - a raised eyebrow, a twitch of the lip - were screaming at Nyota that there was something really special about him. She never asked him outright, but she enjoyed working on this puzzle.

Nyota went home for winter break, wondering if she would be able to see Spock at school anymore. She decided not to worry too much about it, and was pleasantly surprised to see Spock listed as the TA on her Advanced Phonology syllabus when she returned in January. She wasn't in his discussion section this time, but her disappointment faded when Professor Watanabe mentioned that the department was planning on instituting a weekly department tea meeting. There would be no formal agendas, but it was a time for all the xenolinguists to get together informally and talk about their subject. Nyota knew that Spock would probably resist the social aspect of the event, but would probably attend out of duty to the department.

She was right. He was in the commons with most of the other instructors and more than half of the department's cadets when she arrived. People were pouring tea from a giant teapot and snacking on cookies, and Spock was sitting awkwardly in a far corner, clutching his mug in both hands. His eyes lit up and his expression softened when he glimpsed her, and she gave him a nod before pouring herself some tea and sidling through the murmuring throng to sit on the arm of the couch next to him.

"Hi, Spock."

"Hello." He glanced around uncertainly. "I find myself confused as to the nature of this event."

"Just a social thing, I guess." She took a sip from her mug, and had to fight not to spit it back out. "Ugh, what is this?"

"I do not know. However, I anticipated the tastes of the organizers and brought my own tea."

"That's pretty clever." She set the mug down on the windowsill behind her. "This stuff is awful. Maybe you should make the tea next time."

"Perhaps I will."

...

The next week the tea was much better, and when Uhura arrived Spock was surrounded by a small crowd who seemed to be asking him about it. He made the tea the next week again, and the week after that. Gradually she watched him grow more comfortable and have conversations with other people, and she couldn't help but listen to him talk about the various things that interested him, and provide input for other cadets on all the languages he spoke. Since tea was clearly no longer her time to talk to him, she took to coming in to his office hours near the end of the scheduled block. They chatted then, sometimes about the class topics, and more and more frequently about other things. She told him about her interest in linguistics, her goals for the future, her other classes, her roommate and all the drama that came with her.

They didn't talk much about Spock, and Nyota resolved not to pry.

On the last day of second semester exams, she stopped by Watanabe's office. The professor was out, but Spock was there, grading the written portion of their finals as he sipped from a large mug of tea. He looked up when she knocked on the door frame. "Cadet Uhura."

"Hi. Am I interrupting?"

He set down the PADD he was reading. "Not at all. Do you have a concern about your exam? I have already graded it, and your work was exemplary."

"Oh! No, no. Thanks, though." She looked down at her boots shyly. "I just wanted to see you since, you know, you're graduating next week."

"That is correct. Will you be attending the ceremony?"

"Yeah, I'm in the choir and we're singing for it." She cleared her throat, now uncertain of her motives. "I was just ... I wanted to know what your plans are for after. You haven't talked about it at all."

"I have received a number of offers, but I have not yet made a decision and I am not currently at liberty to disclose."

Infuriatingly straightforward, and yet not what she wanted. "Oh. Well then."

"It will be made public at graduation, though. We will both know then."

Was there a little twinkle in his eye? He was trying to joke with her! Her fears of never seeing him again were slightly assuaged, and she smiled. "I guess we will."

Graduation day couldn't come fast enough. Nyota didn't have much to do except pack her things for the summer, and hang out with Gaila and their other friends. The choir rehearsed several times, and she tried to focus on the music instead of thinking about the knowledge that was waiting for her after the performance.

Finally the day arrived. She had everything already packed, so she simply dressed in her uniform and went to breakfast with Gaila. The graduating cadets were in the mess too, but she couldn't pick out Spock from the hundreds of others there. Then the choir had to leave to warm up, and she felt herself getting nervous and going through the same useless mental motions she had been for days. Several offers? What did that mean? Most cadets got assigned either to a base or a ship, and she couldn't imagine Starfleet giving him anything other than his first pick of posts. There were even rumors that Captain Pike was looking for a new science officer, and any cadet in the Academy would eat their own boot to serve under Pike.

Despite her nerves, she successfully navigated the opening number and sat down to watch the ceremony. Her high school graduating class had been 300 students, and at the time she thought it was large. She was unprepared for the length of time it took for a thousand cadets to receive their degrees and new ranks, and wished she had brought something to do - Gaila had pulled a crochet hook and ball of thread out of her bag and was working on something that looked like a cobweb. She couldn't see Spock in the crowd - there were an awful lot of dark heads with pale skin. When the "SP" portion of the alphabet came and went, she started to worry a little. Why had he been skipped? Maybe he wasn't actually graduating? Had he already graduated and left on an assignment? She glanced around to see if anyone had a program, but didn't see any.

She felt a little silly when the presenters got to the end of the alphabet and started announcing those cadets who graduated with honors - of course Spock would have honors! There were a fairly large number of these, and she fought the whole time to keep her nervousness in check. Each of these cadets were introduced with a description of their Honors work at the Academy, and what they would be doing after graduation. It seemed to go on forever.

"...Which brings us to our final cadet to graduate this year," said the speaker as the applause from the last died down, and Nyota perked up. The butterflies in her stomach rattled around and she found it hard to breathe.

"This cadet has worked tirelessly during his four years here, and has distinguished himself to a degree that has not been seen in many years. In addition to completing two majors and a minor with extraordinary success, he has written three Honors theses, worked as a teaching assistant in three departments, and has been named a Master in the Federation Three-Dimensional Chess Organization. His first major, in the Science track, is Physics, and his thesis is entitled Experimental Observation of Strong Edge Effects on the Pseudodiffusive Transport of Light in Photonic Graphene." There was a chuckle from the audience, as there had been for all of the long-titled science papers. "That paper has been submitted to the Federation Surface Physics Journal for publication.

"His second major is Computer Science. His thesis work in this area has directly served Starfeet Academy, and for the time being its content is confidential." The crowd murmured; whether it was fear or awe was difficult for Nyota to tell. Her stomach did a flip.

"His minor is in Xenolinguistics, and his thesis is entitled Phonemic Cross-Comparisons of Romulan and Vulcan Irregular Verbs." Again a chuckle from the crowd. Nyota's fists were clenched on her knees in anticipation. This was it.

"Due to his impressive accomplishments, this cadet was offered several positions following his graduation, but he could only accept one. Next year, he will be serving the Academy in several capacities: as a technician in the Physics department, as a programmer for the Command track, and as an instructor in Xenolinguistics and Interspecies Ethics. His rank has been suitably advanced to reflect his many accomplishments, and he graduates Summa Cum Laude. I congratulate you, Lieutenant Commander Spock."

The world seemed to move in slow motion as he rose from his seat in the first row of the graduates, and with long, graceful strides ascended to the stage. _He was staying at the Academy. She didn't have to say goodbye!_ Not only that, but he was staying on in Xenolinguistics. She snapped out of her stupor when Gaila elbowed her, clapping pointedly at the stage. Nyota quickly joined in as Gaila gave her an odd look, and smiled as Spock accepted his diploma and rank, then bowed deeply instead of shaking hands.

The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur, and Nyota managed to get all of her luggage together and catch the appropriate transport to Nairobi. She wished a little she could have seen Spock to congratulate him, but it could wait. She would see him in the fall.


	3. Chapter 3

Nyota was eager to return to the Academy in the fall of her second year, and almost resented the recruitment trip Captain Pike had convinced her to go on the week before move-in, since it got in the way of being back in San Francisco. The summer had been nice, of course, seeing old friends and spending time with her family. But she had missed Gaila and her other friends, though they kept in touch electronically. More even than that, she had missed the academic rigor of the school year, the busy schedule she needed in order to be her best.

She didn't want to admit that she missed Spock. Being away from him had made her consider that this was a silly crush for her to hold, especially since he was to be an instructor. She had resolved to put it out of her mind, but met with limited success. Nevertheless, she tried not to think about him. It wasn't as if anything would ever come of it.

Her short afro had grown out over the year, and as a going-back-to-school gift, her mother had taken her to get it professionally straightened, and promised regular visits to San Francisco to maintain it. Nyota loved the style - it was one she had worn occasionally when she was younger, but never as frequently as she liked because of the maintenance. Now, as her mother said, she was a woman, and very capable of balancing her academics and the vainer side of herself. It was all very exciting, and her hair was the first thing Gaila commented on when she arrived at their new, larger room.

"Ny! Your hair looks amazing! How was your summer?"

Lieutenant Commander Spock was also eager for the academic year to begin, although he did a commendable job of not letting on. The summer had been primarily spent working with his new colleagues in the Computer Science and Interspecies Ethics departments. Most of the rest of the time he had spent with Captain Christopher Pike, recently returned from a three-year mission. Starfleet Command had offered him a desk job in San Francisco until the Enterprise was completed, and it was a poorly-kept secret that he was the number one choice to captain her.

Spock had known Pike briefly, during the time right before his first year at the Academy. It had been very emotionally charged, and the officer had taken the young cadet under his wing since the young man's father would not advocate for him in any way. Pike remembered his first year at the Academy, and how difficult it had been even though he was on his home planet, surrounded by others of his species, and he had both his parents' strong support. The young Vulcan had none of these, and Pike was determined to make sure this bright student was not hindered by his unfortunate circumstances. His efforts had been successful, and when he returned to Earth he sought out Spock. Unsurprisingly, their early conversations had turned to the Enterprise.

"Are you planning on applying to be on her crew?"

"Yes," Spock replied, in his usual calm. "My teaching appointments are renewed on a yearly basis, so I have no long-term ties to the Academy."

"Good. I just wanted to be sure; I think you'll be really good there." He paused for a moment. "I also wanted to let you know about a new regulation for starship personnel that's about to go through. They're requiring intermittent physical conditioning certification for swimming now, ever since that shuttle accident on the ocean world."

Pike saw Spock tense slightly. "Thank you for informing me, Captain."

"I take it you're not up to snuff on swimming?"

Spock put on an expression that almost seemed haughty. "As Vulcan is a desert planet, it is not something I ever experienced in childhood, and at the Academy I found it distasteful."

"Well, if you want to get on the Enterprise, you should probably work on that. I know some people who could give you lessons, if you want."

"No, thank you. I am quite capable." His eyes avoided the Captain's.

The pool was closed for the summer, but reopened the week that students returned for the Fall semester. On the first morning, Spock stepped onto the pool deck when it opened promptly at 0500. He felt exposed, clad only in his regulation bathing suit and a cap and goggles. The lifeguard glanced at him sleepily, then went back to staring out the window at the still-dark sky.

The water was as cold and wet as ever, and Spock forced himself through several hundred meters. His form was awkward and splashy, and a few seldom-used muscles protested. As soon as he finished, he leaped out and headed for the dry warmth of the locker room. This was going to be harder than he had anticipated.

"Ugh, swimming?" Gaila whined loudly.

Nyota squeezed her hair with a towel as she stood in the doorway to their bathroom. "I take it the physical conditioning assignments for the quarter are up."

"Yeah, but don't feel too smug. You have swimming, too."

She shrugged. "Better now than in January. But yes, I feel your pain. At least we'll have each other when we get up at the butt-crack of dawn to go drown ourselves."

Gaila sighed and sat back in her chair. "What does the rest of your semester look like?"

"Same old," Nyota said. "Xenolinguistics, couple of general courses. Interspecies Ethics."

"Oooh, me too! Do you have Commander Kyea for that?"

"No, I'm in Lieutenant Commander Spock's class."

"Oh, boo. I don't envy you, finding out what new heights of perfectionism he'll require. Then again, I suppose that suits you."

Nyota smiled to herself. "I suppose it does."

On the first day of the semester, they scurried through the darkness to the pool, arriving on deck at 0459, just in time for Captain Luong to look over the assembled cadets and begin to speak. "Welcome to swimming," she said, a hint of boredom in her voice. "Since you are second year students, there's not much need for an introduction, I suppose. Each morning your workout will be posted here." She gestured to a board. "As usual, it is in your best interest to complete the entire thing, even though I cannot personally verify that each of you does. Speak with me if your species is incapable of anything posted, though I will try to avoid this."

Bleary-eyed faces stared back at her. Most were humanoid, though there were a couple in the mix with significant physiological differences. None spoke.

"Lanes one through four are reserved for your use. The other four are for open swimming, please don't use them. Go ahead and get in the water."

Nyota shuffled over to a lane and put on her goggles. Just before she jumped in, she noticed the door to the men's locker room open, and a pale, thin man stepped onto the deck. He stopped abruptly when he saw the cadets, but quickly recovered and continued to the lane farthest from them.

It was Spock! He was the last person she had expected to see here, especially after he had told her last year about his distaste for the water. She had commiserated; it was one of the many conversations that had strengthened that weird little friendship they had.

Past tense, girl, she told herself. He's an officer now, you're just a girl. You can't be friends anymore.

Nevertheless, she joined the others in admiring his body as he hurried by them. His limbs were long and lean, beautifully muscled. His usual fluid grace was evident despite his awkwardness, and Nyota's eyes were drawn to the dark hair on his chest before following it down across his firm abs and into his dark blue swim suit with the arrowhead insignia on the hip -

She hurriedly looked away, and jumped into the cold water. She would not stare at his package in that tiny thing, alluring though it was. She was a professional, even at the pool.

Interspecies Ethics was her first class after lunch, and Lieutenant Commander Spock was already in the lecture hall when she arrived. He glanced up and nodded at her, and she nodded back and tried not to trip as she descended the stairs. The dark instructor's uniform fit perfectly, and seemed to taunt her, now that she knew what was underneath. She began to wonder how his trousers concealed what she had seen at the pool, but stopped and blushed when she reached her preferred seat, near the front. It would certainly not do to be staring at his crotch in class. She crossed her legs and tried not to think about his package.

It occurred to her that she hadn't so much as been on a date with anyone since the early weeks of her first year. Maybe she just needed a guy in her life.

She looked around as more students came into the hall ... including Jim Kirk. And he was definitely not the sort of guy she needed in her life. She was smart, and not the kind of girl who liked to party every weekend and sleep off the hangover on Sundays. Sure, she partied, but in moderation, and never to the detriment of her studies. She needed a guy like that.

Class began minutes later, and she was soon too busy taking notes to think any more about the men she wanted to date, or even Lt. Commander Spock's lithe form as he paced the stage.

Their first assignment was a short essay about a personal first contact, due on Wednesday at the start of class. Nyota's mind started flying through the possibilities as soon as she began to leave. She couldn't remember the first time she had met a person of another species - growing up in Nairobi with parents in academia meant that she and her brother had enjoyed rich childhoods. Really, there were only a few species with which she could remember her first contact. It might be interesting to write about meeting Gaila, to talk about how their different personalities and lifestyles had initially clashed. She thought briefly about writing about Spock himself - but it might be too forward, and her crush was probably way too obvious.

On Tuesday morning, Lt. Commander Spock was already in the water when she arrived at the pool, splashing up and down the far lane. Nyota wrote her essay about meeting Gaila later that morning.

On Wednesday morning, he stepped out of the locker room just as she was walking past with Gaila. They all stopped for a split second.

"Good morning, Commander," Nyota said stiffly.

He turned slightly green. "Cadets."

As soon as he was out of earshot, Gaila turned to Nyota with a huge grin. "How lucky are we that he's here every morning?"

Uhura's mouth was dry. "What do you mean?"

"Wake up, Ny! Seeing that fine piece of ass every day makes it actually worth getting out of bed for this."

"He's an instructor!"

The Orion shrugged and started pulling her hair back. "And he's hot."

"I'm so not hearing this."

"As if you could lie to me. He makes you tingly."

Nyota pulled on her goggles and dove into the cold water.

In her afternoon class, she couldn't stop watching him move. The uniform covered him from neck to wrist to toe, but showed every lean angle as clearly as if he were still wearing only that little swimming suit.

She stopped by the convenience store after class for some fresh batteries. It was a good thing Gaila was busy all afternoon.


	4. Chapter 4

On Thursday of the first week of the semester, Spock awoke earlier than usual. He listened carefully, wondering what noise had roused him, but heard nothing besides the barely-audible whir of the environmental system; it seemed to be working normally. Perhaps it had simply been a neighbor making a noise, he thought. Either way, he was awake, and it was illogical to waste this time. He rose and moved through his apartment - really, barely more than a dormitory - without turning on the lights. In the small living room, he lit a stick of incense and settled on his meditation mat in the corner. He had found himself with less time to meditate than he had anticipated in this first week of his teaching appointment, and a sense of disquiet had begun to build in him. Meditation was the solution.

At 0435 he opened his eyes, extinguished the incense, put on his uniform, and gathered his things for the day before heading to the pool.

His gaze scanned the pool deck when he emerged from the locker room. It was still early, and only a few swimmers were there. Cadet Uhura sat on a starting block and chatted with her Orion friend, and both looked over when he appeared. The other cadet expressed a big smile, while Uhura's mouth simply opened slightly.

"Good morning, Cadets," he said as he made his way toward them.

They stood to acknowledge him. "Good morning, Commander."

Uhura spoke suddenly. "Lieutenant Commander," she said hastily, "will you be at Linguistics Tea today?"

He paused. "I was unaware that it was taking place this year."

Her eyes widened as he stopped in front of her. "Well, it is. Sir. Same time and place as last year."

Spock considered for a moment. "I am free during that time. I will plan to attend."

"Oh. Good. Because, um, I wanted to talk to you about my language practicum." Spock raised an interested eyebrow. "My professor recommended I consult a native Vulcan speaker to help my vocabulary, and ... well, you're it."

"I am glad to assist, Cadet. At ease." He strode away perhaps more quickly than was necessary, and got into the water.

While he swam, his thoughts rattled in his head and he struggled to control them. He had avoided thoughts of Cadet Uhura in his morning's meditation, but he found he could not put them aside now. She was appearing more and more in his life, now in a type of uniform that bared even more of her flawless skin. He was not immune to lust; he had felt it for her occasionally in the past. This new situation simply made its suppression marginally more difficult, even when she wore her normal uniform in class. He enjoyed her presence, but did not enjoy the sudden mental images of her in a bathing suit that came unbidden while he spoke about variations on formal greetings among Federation races.

And now he had committed himself to helping her during Linguistics Tea. It was not an event he had found particularly useful in the past, though the others appeared to appreciate his presence. Eventually, he had come to enjoy it - at least, the parts where he could talk with Cadet Uhura. More and more, she struck him as an exceptional Human. She was a year ahead in her studies, and possessed mental faculties that were superior to many of her peers, even at this elite institution. Surely it was not illogical to desire to continue to cultivate the relationship they had begun last year? He was now her superior officer, but that was no reason to avoid the development of an efficient and stimulating relationship between colleagues. It would be beneficial to both of them.

Spock paused after swimming 1000 meters, and noticed Captain Luong sitting on the block at the end of his lane. He pulled off his goggles and looked up. "Captain."

"Lieutenant Commander Spock," she greeted him. "Would you welcome some ... constructive criticism?"

"Certainly," he said, and noted that he was breathing harder than usual. Had he been exerting himself especially?

The captain hesitated for a moment. "I know you're only doing this to keep up on your conditioning for a starship posting, and this isn't necessarily ... necessary to that end. But I noticed you pick up your head when you breathe. It's more efficient to keep it down, keep your chin right by your shoulder."

"Thank you, Sir," he answered. "I will do so."

"Okay, keep going." She made a shooing motion. "I'll let you know if I have any more technique tips for you."

Spock replaced his goggles and pushed off for his second kilometer. He focused on his form, and did not allow thoughts of brilliant, cinnamon-skinned cadets in skimpy suits to enter his mind.

At 15:02 Spock saved the lecture notes he was preparing and rose from his desk, slowly straightening to ease the stiffness that had begun to form in his back. The chair in his assigned office was too short for him, and his posture was suffering - he made a mental note to ask Commander Pourciau to request an appropriate one at the next morning's Comp Sci department meeting.

The Sciences building was separated from the Communications building by a short walkway, lined with trees and benches. It took him two minutes and fourteen seconds to walk from his office to the Linguistics lounge on the second floor of Communications, if he was not interrupted by conversation. This allowed him to arrive at 15:05, "fashionably late", as Cadet Uhura had told him. He did not understand why being late to an event was socially advantageous, but he had been taking her advice for most of the previous year and it had seemed to work fine.

Reaching into a desk drawer, he removed his canister of tea and set out.

Uhura's attention was drawn again by a dark figure entering the crowded lounge, and this time it was Spock. She excused herself from the conversation that she was having with two other cadets - or, they were having, and she was on the fringe of - and wove around the table to greet the Vulcan at the door.

She felt a touch of concern at his stiff posture and unreadable face. Last year he had seemed to grow comfortable at these gatherings, but now his body language was clearly projecting apprehension.

"Glad you could make it," she greeted over the loud murmur of conversation.

"I have brought tea," he said, looking at the large, steaming pot on the table. "Though it appears that I am too late."

"I didn't know if you would be bringing tea, so I made what was here. I'm sort of unofficially in charge this semester, since I have language lab until 1430 and I'm around anyways."

Spock seemed distracted, and she mentally kicked herself for babbling so much. "Is that the same tea you brought last year?"

He refocused, and lifted the canister so that she could see it. "No. This is a slightly different blend, though it is similar."

"I can keep it here, if you want. Or, if you can't make it right at three. The crowd demanded tea, so I couldn't wait for you."

"I am capable of arriving on time." The statement might have sounded defensive, coming from someone else. "I endeavored to be 'fashionably late'. However, it is no problem for the tea to remain here; I obtained it for that purpose."

"That's very kind of you." She took the canister, and looked back over her shoulder as she moved to the cabinet. "Help yourself to the tea. It's better than what we used to have."

He removed a mug from the cupboard and filled it with the steaming brew, then found a seat near Uhura. "I understand you desire assistance with your Vulkhansu zhit-feim."

"Ha," she confirmed. "But I think this might not be the best setting, since it's fairly noisy."

Spock nodded and sipped his tea. It was drinkable, though not exceptionally good. "Do you seek assistance in a particular area?"

"Technical vocabulary," she said with a grimace. "In Vulcan and Romulan. If I want to be qualified for a good posting when I graduate, I'll need to be up to snuff on those."

"I believe I can provide tutelage in those areas," Spock said. "I am free after teatime today, if you would like to meet then."

She smiled over her mug. "That would be great. Thanks again for doing this for me."

"It is only logical."

Uhura was about to reply when Commander Xiu claimed Spock's attention, and with a little sigh, Uhura turned to join a conversation about the new physical conditioning requirements.

Around 1600, the group had dwindled considerably. Uhura caught Spock's gaze from across the room, and they excused themselves from their conversations and adjourned to his office for their first official meeting. Spock made sure that his door was left fully open, and that their chairs were positioned so that they were not too close together. Regulations officially forbade intimate relationships between instructors and cadets, and Spock knew that his computer scientist colleagues might find it odd that he was speaking an alien language with Cadet Uhura.

That was how he rationalized it in his conscious mind. He ignored the part of his brain that arranged it to prevent his own temptation.

After forty-six minutes of carefully pronouncing compound nouns and inventing contextual uses for them, Uhura reached above her head and stretched.

"I think that's about all I can take today, Commander," she said.

"You have done good work, Cadet," he replied. "Practice these words this week, and pay close attention to the tonal differences between the homophones. I will quiz you when we meet next week."

She stood and gathered her bag. "Rom-halan, Tra-lan Spokh."

"Rom-halan, Ne-lan."

XxXxX

They met in this manner every Thursday for the remainder of August and all of September. Spock's morning pool workouts continued to coincide with Uhura's physical conditioning in the mornings, and he continued to put those thoughts from his mind while he taught class. It gradually became easier to allow Cadet Uhura's physical beauty to be a background to her intellect, which he was beginning to realize was in many ways superior to that of her peers. While the other cadets in Interspecies Ethics would occasionally come to his office hours, and then only when they had specific questions, and often right before an assignment was due, when Cadet Uhura came, she engaged him in thoughtful discussion about a class topic. It was frequently one that he had wished to spend more time on in class, but had fallen by the wayside in the interest of time.

Spock found himself looking forward to Thursday afternoons. It wasn't that the other days of the week were not interesting or challenging to him, and for a while he struggled to find the reason. And when the reason did occur to him, he wondered why it had taken him so long - it was her. Certainly, he had enjoyed her company the previous year, but now he felt something when she was around, and he was not certain that this feeling was entirely proper. So he repressed it, rationalized that it was natural to hold a bright student in high regard, and to appreciate the conversation of an intellectual equal.

She made excellent progress in her independent study with him, and at the end of her first meeting in October he told her so.

She smiled and looked at her hands. "Thank you, Sir. I've been practicing a lot on my own."

"I am sure that you have, and I believe that you will gain the rest of the necessary vocabulary through similar practice. To that end, I have thought of a new activity to supplement these efforts."

Her face brightened. "Ooh! What is it?"

He pulled a paperbound book and a long case from his bag. "Vulcan script. Are you familiar with it?"

She took the book and flipped through it quickly. "No. I mean, I've seen it before, but I've never studied it."

"It is not commonly taught except on Vulcan," he said, glancing at the pages as she turned through them. "This book contains exercises for young children who are learning how to write. If you are interested, I will assign you the first two exercises for next week."

"Sure," she said. "What do I do?"

"I will demonstrate." He opened the case, revealing a shiny silver pen with a square nib, then pulled a sheet of blank paper from his desk. "The pen is held at an angle of fifteen degrees to the right of vertical, with the line of the nib aligned to the vertical of the writing surface." He made a short stroke from left to right, making a small rectangle. "I recommend that you practice on lined paper. 5 centimeter spaces would be ideal." With another pen, he drew a few lines vertically on the paper. "The large character on the page shows the correct stroke order. Below it is a description of the character, and to the right is the exercise to be copied. In the beginning they are simple repetitions of the character, but as you proceed they become increasingly complex and form words and phrases." As he spoke, he carefully repeated the character on the lines he had drawn, from top to bottom. "Focus is required to simultaneously control the angle of the pen and create the character shape." He sat back when he had finished the second line and set down the pen. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir," she breathed. "This is way cool."

One slanted eyebrow lifted slightly as he replaced the pen in its box. "Your assignment is the first two exercises, the vowels "Ah" and "Eh". I am loaning this pen to you with the knowledge that you will treat it well; it was a gift from my mother."

"Oh! What was the occasion?"

"My acceptance to Starfleet Academy."

XxXxX

That evening, Nyota studied the shining pen by the light of her desk lamp. Engraved into the last ten centimeters of the shaft was a line of flowing script. _This was a gift to Spock from his mother, and he has entrusted it to me!_ Her heart fluttered as she ran her finger over the beautiful alien words that she couldn't yet understand.

She sighed. Spock wasn't doing anything to relieve this crush she had developed. She steeled her resolve and started writing the first exercise.


	5. Chapter 5

The semester wore on. Week by week, Uhura's skill with the Vulcan script improved. By November, she could read and write at what Spock described as "a typical ability level for a four-year-old." She chose to take it as a compliment, and gradually they moved into more difficult works, complex diacritical marks, and the more elegant calligraphy of ages past.

December came, bringing rainstorms from the Pacific and the promise of a visit to a warmer climate for Nyota. On the last Thursday of the semester, Linguistics Tea was abuzz with discussion of the department Holiday Party taking place Friday evening. Nyota was singing in a choir concert before that, and before long got tired of answering "What time is the concert?" and wrote it on the whiteboard, where Spock spied it when he arrived, wet and cold.

Uhura noticed his entrance, and in a few moments offered him a large cup of hot tea. He accepted it gratefully. "I regret that I will be unable to tutor you this afternoon," he said as he suppressed a shiver - even after all this time, he struggled to bear the winters here. "I am substituting for Commander Pourciau."

Nyota's face fell. "Oh. Well, I guess that's more important, isn't it?"

Spock nodded, and took a deep drink of his tea before continuing. "I have brought something that I intended to use today. Instead, you may read it at your leisure."

"What is it?"

From his bag, he withdrew a small book with the title embossed in swirling calligraphy. "It is a book of Vulcan poetry from approximately three thousand years ago. This is a modern re-printing, but the works are written in a combination of modern script and ancient calligraphy."

"It's beautiful," she said.

"I had hoped to read these aloud during our session today."

"Maybe we could read them here? I bet everyone would like that!"

He hesitated for a moment. "Yes, I imagine they would."

Uhura grinned broadly and turned to the room. "Hey, everyone! How about a little Vulcan poetry?"

There was a chorus of cheers. "I didn't know Vulcans had poetry!" someone said, and was rewarded with laughter.

Uhura motioned Spock to sit on the tall stool by the counter, and he flipped through the book as she settled into a chair.

"This is an ancient lover's lament," Spock announced. "It is entitled T'Alis."*

He took a breath, and the rhythmic syllables fell from his lips like song.

 _In the earliest days of the rains,  
When sprouts begin to spring,  
The little bird has her pleasure  
In her language to sing.  
I live in love-longing  
For the seemliest of all things.  
She may bring me bliss:  
I am under her spell._

 _I have received her gracious attention,  
I know it is heaven-sent to me:  
From all others my love is stolen,  
And alights on T'Alis, precious one._

 _In hue, her hair is fair enough,  
Her brow brown, her eye black;  
With winsome cheer she looks on me.  
Unless she will take me unto her  
For to be her own mate,  
My own long life I will forsake,  
And dead, fall down._

 _I have received her gracious attention,  
I know it is heaven-sent to me:  
From all others my love is stolen,  
And alights on T'Alis, precious one._

 _Nights when I toss and wake,  
When my cheeks wax wan:  
Lady, all for thine sake  
Comes longing upon me.  
In the world, at noon, so clever is a man  
Who of her bounty can tell;  
Her neck is whiter than pure salt,  
And the fairest maiden ever known._

 _I have received her gracious attention,  
I know it is heaven-sent to me:  
From all others my love is stolen,  
And alights on T'Alis, precious one._

 _I am exhausted from wooing,  
Weary as water down a fall.  
Should anyone deprivve me of my mate,  
I have worried long since.  
Better to mourn for a time  
Than to mourn evermore.  
Fairest whom I adore,  
Hearken to my song:_

 _I have received thy gracious attention,  
I know it is heaven-sent to me:  
From all else my love is stolen,  
And alights on T'Alis, only one._

Silence engulfed the room for several long seconds after Spock gently closed the book. Nyota stared at him, and his gaze burned back into hers. The air had grown hot and dry, as though they were really on Vulcan, and he had spoken those words to her alone.

And then Captain Jordheim began applauding softly. The other professors and students quickly joined in, and Spock inclined his head in acknowledgment of the applause and rose from his seat.

Nyota's heart was pounding, deafeningly loud as she rose and stepped towards him. To her great relief, quiet conversations began again, and no one watched her shaky steps but him.

"That was lovely."

The tips of his ears took on a distinctly verdant hue as he handed her the book. "It is the first one in the book. Had I the time, I would have chosen a less ... evocative work."

She shook her head quickly. "No, this was great." Maybe too great. She still felt a bit shaken from the intensity. "A lot of people don't realize that Vulcans could ever have written something like that."

"It is not a part of our history that we particularly care to recollect," he said, taking a long drink of tea. "Those times were tumultuous. The teachings of Surak and the adoption of the kohlinar stabilized our society greatly."

"Still," she said, shooting him a sly smile. "It's part of your cultural heritage, no matter how much you wish otherwise."

He gave a small sigh, and a brief nod.

Nyota grinned with victory. "Will you be at the concert tomorrow night?"

"I believe so. I am expected to arrive at the party early in order to socialize with visiting alumni, but there should be ample time after the concert." There was a touch of mischief in his sideways glance at her. "I hope it will not be longer than advertised, or I might be forced to renege on my responsibility."

She couldn't help but chuckle. "I'll see what I can do, Commander."

XxXxXxX

On Friday evening, Nyota arrived at the party a full hour after it had started - fashionably late, she told herself. The concert had indeed run longer than the advertised 90 minutes (a totally unreasonable estimate) by almost a full hour, and then she had lingered with friends and well-wishers for a bit before excusing herself and hurrying back to her dorm room to change into something more flattering than her modest and old-fashioned chorale uniform.

The music was bordering on loud when she finally made her way into the party, and a few people were dancing to the classic rock songs, while most of the others stood in small groups, chatting.

Suddenly a warm body was beside her, and there was a light kiss on her cheek. She took a startled step backwards, then relaxed when she identified Ben Joshi, a third-year cadet who was Spock's current TA for Intermediate Phonology, and had taken the same course with her the previous year. "Ben! What's that all about?"

He grinned and glanced up. "You're under the mistletoe, Uhura. Isn't that the way it works?"

She jumped aside, then looked up. Sure enough, there was a sprig of the stuff fastened above the door. "And what are you up to? Lurking here to catch all the pretty girls?"

"Just got lucky with you." He smiled slyly. "Can I get you a drink?"

She knew where this was going. It seemed to happen to her any time she was at a party or in a bar. Normally she would parry, deflect the amorous advances. But Ben was a nice guy, and rumor had it he was great in bed ...

She made a decision. She had some lust for Commander Spcok, but really, nothing was ever going to come of that. It couldn't. It was ridiculous and impossible.

And there was absolutely nothing wrong with having a little fun.

Uhura brushed against Ben's arm as she sashayed towards the bar. "I can get it myself, but you're welcome to join me."

XxXxXxX

Spock stood near a wall, as far from the loud amplifiers as he could get without physically leaving the room. This music, while interesting, was too loud, and he had no interest in dancing. The ice in his whiskey had melted, and the drink remained untouched. He was still unsure how he had allowed Commander Xiu to convince him to get it.

He saw the door to the hall open, and Cadet Uhura came into the room. Spock had just decided to go to her, when Cadet Joshi appeared and engaged her attention.

A hot emotion flared within Spock, and he stopped abruptly. The two humans were flirting with one another, obvious even to his eyes. Uhura allowed Joshi to touch her in a familiar manner, and they moved towards the bar together. He was unaware that the two knew each other so well. Or, perhaps this was what Cadet Joshi meant when he had mentioned "hooking up" with Uhura. At the time, Spock had assumed that Joshi meant that he would simply see and interact with Uhura at the party. Had he understood this sexualized meaning, he might have scolded Joshi for speaking about another cadet to him in such a way.

Joshi put his arm around Uhura's waist as they waited for their drinks at the bar. Confused and embarrassed, Spock looked away. Why was Uhura allowing such a display? She had never spoken to him of any romantic interests or partners, and he even recalled her story of a barroom brawl in Iowa that had begun with her rejection of a civilian's advances. This seemed out of character for her.

It suddenly occurred to him that he felt another emotion, one that he had not known since he was young. Jealousy.

Enough was enough, then. He could not allow a cadet's off-duty behavior - which was allowed by Starfleet protocol, no matter how illogical it seemed - to interfere with him in this way. On his way out of the party, he said good night to the other officers he passed and gave the untouched whiskey back to Commander Xiu. She would doubtless enjoy it more than he could.

The chilly air struck him harshly as he went outside, and he welcomed the abrupt change. Anything to take his mind off what he had seen and help him restore his equilibrium.

XxXxXxX

After three drinks, Uhura felt fabulous. The room was warm, the music pounding, and she pressed against Ben's firm body as they danced. She loved the way the lights played in his dark, shiny hair, and his red shirt brought out the flush in his brown skin. They were a beautiful pair, moving as they did to the music, a facsimile of what was to come.

XxXxXxX

Uhura awoke with a pounding head to the bright light of the morning pouring through her windows, the sheets tangled all around her legs, and no pillows. Gradually, she remembered the previous night. She had invited Ben back to her dorm room, and verified the rumors about him. Loudly. At least Gaila hadn't been there. Come to think of it, it seemed like she hadn't made it back to their room at all.

A half-snore and a mumble came from the floor next to her bed.

Uhura rolled face down and set her forehead on the mattress. And after, she had apparently kicked Ben out onto the floor, where he still was. It was not her finest hour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: This poem was adapted (made more easily readable by modern audiences, and Vulcan-ized) from a Middle English song called "Alisoun", by an anonymous author, that is published in the Norton Anthology of English Literature, Volume 1. It is from a manuscript that dates to the 15th Century, and was clearly influenced by Chaucer's work, both in subject and style. In the interest of full disclosure ... there was one line I left out because I had trouble figuring out what it said and how to make it work in a Vulcan song.
> 
> Hire browe browne, hire ye blake;  
> With lossum cheere heo on me lough;  
> With middel smal and wel ymake.


	6. Chapter 6

To Uhura's great relief, Ben took his night on the floor in good humor, and asked her to have breakfast with him in the cafeteria. She loaned him an old t-shirt, and kept her back to him as they dressed.

"I hope I don't look too conspicuous," he commented as they walked across the campus.

She turned her head, and really looked at him for the first time that day. He was still wearing his pants, shoes, and shirt from the night before, though he wore the shirt open, revealing gray cotton that clung to his chest.

She blushed. "Oh, not at all. This is clearly not a walk of shame."

His laugh was musical and sudden, and she couldn't help but smile and join in.

XxXxXxX

On Monday morning, Spock got to the pool at his usual time, even though his required swimming conditioning was technically over. His muscles still ached from the long hours he had spent practicing suus mahna on the weekend, and the frigid water stung when he dove in. He pushed himself through it until his limbs trembled.

The hot shower in the locker room was another kind of agony, and he relished it, tilting his head back into the spray, allowing himself a sigh of relaxation. Showering in water was unnecessary - the sonics did a comparable job of cleaning him, and more efficiently. But the steam and pounding droplets let him finally, finally begin to clear his mind and release the frustration that had been boiling inside him since Friday night.

Slowly he turned, and braced himself on the soap ledge, head bowed. The water attacked his scalp, then ran down his back, or dripped from the end of his nose, or meandered through his chest hair and down his belly, finally pooling around his toes before running down the drain. He focused on it. Each oxygen atom, covalently bonded to two hydrogens, forming an angle of 104.474 degrees until the molecule comes in contact with others. The intermolecular hydrogen bonding stretches the angle and causes water's peculiarly high surface tension, making it behave so differently from other liquids. Water is vital for all known life forms, he reflected. It sustained his life. It sustained his sanity.

Some part of his brain acknowledged the presence of other men in the locker room, chatting with one another as they changed. He ignored them, and did not notice their startled silence when they saw him in the showers, naked as they had never seen a Vulcan before, and still but for the motion of his chest as he breathed deeply.

He couldn't avoid thinking about Cadet Uhura. He couldn't avoid remembering the sight of her entering the cafeteria with Joshi beside her, still wearing his clothes from the night before. He couldn't forget the way they had smiled at one another. But he could prevent those thoughts from making his blood race hotly through his veins. Focus on water. Focus on breath. Center.

XxXxXxX

Three hours later, Spock walked into the small lecture hall to give the final exam in Interspecies Ethics. He did not allow his gaze to linger on Cadet Uhura as he scanned the class, and set the tall stack of PADDs on the desk. His back was straight, and his face blank as he spoke.

"This is your final exam. Each PADD contains an essay prompt. You will have three hours to complete the exam, and you may not use any references. I will be here to answer any questions, and you will turn in your essay to me when you are finished. Take a PADD from the stack and begin."

He turned to the desk and took off his messenger bag as the thirty-seven students came forward to get their PADDs. With careful control, he sat in the uncomfortable chair and began revising his proposed additions to the code for the Kobayashi Maru scenario.

For 2.237 hours, the room was silent but for the scratch and tap of the students writing. He was not surprised that Cadet Uhura was the first to finish, sitting back in her seat with a soft huff before rising and walking to where he was sitting.

Spock did not look up as she approached, and merely gave a perfunctory nod when she set her PADD on the corner of the desk. She hesitated for longer than was necessary, then abruptly turned and gathered her things.

When she had left the room, Spock took a deep breath. It would be three weeks before he had to see her again. Perhaps it would be enough time to purge the hot jealousy that still flooded him whenever he recalled the image of her pressed against Cadet Joshi as they danced in a way that he never could.

He blinked hard and pushed the thought away. He had grading to do.

Cadet Uhura's essay was exemplary, of course. When he had finished grading it - 96 points out of 100, which he imagined would be the highest in the class - there was a short stack of others waiting. They would not be as good as hers, he knew. But he was not one to procrastinate, and so he recorded Uhura's grade and moved on to the next exam.

XxXxXxX

Nyota could barely leave campus fast enough after her last exam. It seemed like Ben was everywhere, winking at her or touching her hair or asking if she wanted to get coffee. The flirtation that had been so intoxicating at the party apparently never turned off, and it was starting to grate on her.

When she arrived at her parents' home in Nairobi, she found a message from him on her communicator.

 _Hey, Nyota, it's Ben. I'm sorry I didn't get to see you before you left, but I'm going to be staying with my parents in Pune for the break, if you wanted to get together or something. So, um, I'll see you later, I guess._

She sighed and rubbed her face. There was no easy way to do it.

XxXxXxX

The sun peeked through the clouds as Uhura strolled across campus on the Sunday afternoon before the start of the new semester, brightening what was otherwise a dreary January day. Her target was the cafe in the student union, where Commander Spock had asked to meet to discuss her independent study before classes began. She hoped she would make him proud - over the break, she had worked hard on her penmanship, and had begun to read the poetry in the book he had given her. She was nowhere near fluent in it, to be sure. He would probably joke that any six-year-old on Vulcan would kick her ass at reading poetry ... though he wouldn't phrase it quite so colorfully.

As she drew near the Union, she spotted him through the large class windows of the cafe. He was sitting at a small table in front of the window, engrossed in reading a PADD, dressed in his usual grey uniform and with a shockingly bright orange scarf wrapped around his neck.

He was just taking a sip from his mug when she walked through the door of the cafe, and set it down gently as she approached. "Good afternoon, Cadet Uhura."

"Hello, Commander," she replied, setting her bag by the chair opposite him. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting."

"You are, in fact, 4.7 minutes early for our scheduled meeting."

"Great. Mind if I grab some coffee before we start? It's pretty cold out there today."

He nodded and returned his attention to the PADD in his hand, and Uhura went to the counter to order her drink. Maybe she was imagining it, but Spock seemed especially cold to her, like he had in the Interspecies Ethics exam. As the barista prepared her coffee, she glanced over her shoulder at him. He was reading again, his face smooth and expressionless. Maybe she had just forgotten how he normally interacted with people, after the weeks spent among her raucous and demonstrative family. She remembered how odd and closed he had seemed when they first met.

When the coffee was ready, she strode with confidence back to the table and sat down as he turned off the PADD. "So," she began, taking a tentative sip of her coffee. "How was your break, Commander?"

"Productive," he said. "And yours?"

"Restful. Productive, I hope. My family kept me pretty busy doing holiday stuff. Which was sort of a good thing, since it gave me an legitimate excuse to avoid Ben."

Spock tilted his head slightly and studied her with an intensity that made her want to squirm. "Why would you wish to avoid him? I was under the impression that you and Cadet Joshi were ... close."

The last word sounded vulgar, coming from him. She studied the coffee in her hands and sat up straighter. "Well, we were. But it wasn't working."

"Did he do something to you, Cadet?"

The accusation in his tone startled her and she met his gaze with surprise. "No! I mean, nothing like that. Stuff was great for a while, he was great." She stopped suddenly, remembering that this was not Gaila or Nidal, but Commander Spock, and blushed hotly. "I ... it was fun, but it didn't mean anything to me. And then he got kind of clingy, and wanted to see me all the time, and I dumped him over the phone. He called a few times after that, until my Papa told him to leave me alone." She took a long sip of coffee, and set the cup down with a little thud and a wry grin. "How weird is it that I'm telling this to a teacher."

Spock leaned back in his chair and looked at her steadily. "If you are uncomfortable discussing this, we need not continue. As long as you are unharmed, it is not officially my business."

"Well ... I guess it's not that I'm uncomfortable. I just feel like I was being a little too familiar with you, treating you like a friend."

They fell silent for a long moment before Spock replied, speaking slowly and precisely. "The nature of our working relationship need not preclude the possibility of friendship."

Nyota giggled and lifted her coffee cup. "Is that Spock-ese for 'Let's be friends'?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I never said that."

Which was, she knew, confirmation that she was right.

XxXxXxX

The sky was growing dark by the time they left the cafe. They had spent several hours basking in the sunlight while they discussed Nyota's progress with reading and writing the Vulcan script, and made plans for the upcoming semester. Nyota expressed an interest in classical Vulcan texts, and became even more excited when Spock suggested a comparison study of Vulcan and Romulan works from the time before the Enlightenment.

"How about this," she said as she shouldered her bag and followed him towards the door. "What if I look at the linguistic differences between Vulcan and Romulan treatment of emotion through the Enlightenment era? I know modern Vulcan uses a lot of euphemisms to avoid talking about feelings, but Romulan doesn't."

"Euphemisms?" Spock turned them towards the residential part of campus.

"Yeah, you know. Vulcan has all these common turns of phrase that a speaker will use to get around talking about an emotion. I can see the beginnings of it in the book you gave me." She patted the bag on her hip. "The author is blunt sometimes, but other times he just makes these strong allusions. It would be interesting to trace how that aspect of the language has changed in the two languages."

"That would be a fascinating topic," Spock agreed, "though I wonder whether you will find any other literature related to euphemism in Vulcan."

"I'm sure there's something."

They walked quietly through the fading light, and Spock was content to enjoy her company. He had grown accustomed to her frequent presence during the previous semester, and it felt good to have fallen back into a familiar routine with her. Even more so, he was glad - yes, he admitted it, he was glad - that she had broken it off with Cadet Joshi.

"This is me," she said at last, stopping in front of her dormitory. "I'll see you soon?"

"My schedule is posted on my faculty net page," he said. "Please find a time that is compatible with your classes for your tutorial."

She smiled. "Thanks. Have a nice night, Commander."

"Good night, Cadet."

He watched as she turned and let herself into the building, and for a few moments longer allowed himself to wish that she didn't have to go.


	8. Chapter 8

The first linguistics tea of the semester was loud and raucous compared to the more subdued gatherings at the end of the previous term, and it wasn't until a few minutes after her tutorial with Commander Spock was supposed to start that Uhura managed to excuse herself. She was worried that Spock would chastise her for being late, but when she arrived at his office the door was closed and the light was off.

"Good afternoon, Cadet."

He strode down the hallway towards her, his arms laden with a large box that looked heavy. "Please forgive my tardiness. I was detained while retrieving this package."

She reached for it. "Here, let me help you with that."

"Thank you, I can manage." He balanced the box on one arm and opened the door with the other. The light snapped on when he entered, and he set the package on the desk.

Uhura followed, appreciating the familiar room. Everything looked the same as it always did - his books and small collection of personal things were neatly organized, and there was even a small stack of PADDs by the window. The only things that seemed out of place were the enormous box and the bright orange scarf that was wrapped around Spock's neck and mouth.

She shrugged off her coat and draped it on the chair. "So what's in the box?"

"New components for my computer science project." He pulled the top open and briefly inspected a slip of paper. His brow furrowed briefly, and he set it back down. "Unfortunately, this is not my entire order, and I will be further delayed." He moved the box to a corner of the room, then unwound the scarf from his neck.

"Say, I meant to ask you about that scarf before," Uhura said. "Is it new?"

He glanced at her, and the light in his eyes was playful embarrassment. "A gift from my mother. She says it's not the holidays without gifts, so every Hanukkah she gives me something of limited practical usefulness."

Uhura smiled. "It seems like you like it well enough."

"It keeps the chill away." He hung the scarf on one of the hooks by the door. "I apologize for my disorganization today. Please have a seat. I assume you brought your script workbook?"

"Yes, sir." She retrieved it from her bag and set it on the desk in the space where the box had been a moment before, open to the latest page she had completed.

He examined it without sitting down, and turned back a page. "Excellent work. Your stroke weight modulation has improved."

"Thank you."

"I would like to do a dictation exercise. Do you have lined paper?"

"Um, no." She felt a moment of panic. Was she supposed to have some? She rarely carried paper as it was.

He moved to a side cabinet and withdrew a few sheets of blank paper, then reached into a drawer for a straight edge. "Two-centimeter spaces, please."

Uhura's ears burned as she set to work lining the paper. "If I'd known, I would have brought some paper with me."

Spock had moved the box to a shelf by the window and was going through the items one by one. "It is of no consequence."

For a little while, the room was quiet but for the rustle of plastic and the dull scratch of pen on paper. Uhura cleared her throat. "I have one sheet ready."

"That will do for now," Spock said, still examining the contents of his box. "Please write each each sentence in standard and formal calligraphy. _One. In the winter time, the wind shear on my father's house rattles the windows_."

Nyota confidently put pen to paper, inscribing the sentence in the basic script. But when she moved on to the formal calligraphy and tried to focus on the correct tilt of the pen to produce the stroke weight that implied the proper respect inherent in the word t'sa-mekh, she found herself distracted by Spock's activity in the corner.

With a soft huff, she lifted her chin and gave him a little glare. "Commander, do you mind?"

He turned, an eyebrow raised in surprise. "I beg your pardon?"

"It's very distracting to have you working on something else. Some might call it rude."

Both eyebrows went up, and he turned to face her fully. "Rude?"

If he were anyone else, it would have sounded like he was taken aback, but she knew him better than that. He was genuinely confused. "To have your attention divided between the person you're working with and something else. It's like you don't care about what I'm doing."

"I meant no such disrespect, Cadet."

"I know. Academically. But humans don't like to feel like they're a burden. Like they're getting in your way of doing something else."

His eyes dropped to the floor for a moment before he moved to sit in the chair opposite her. "I apologize."

"I suppose Vulcans multi-task a lot."

"It is often inefficient to do otherwise."

"Lots of humans aren't capable of much multi-tasking," Uhura explained. "It's generally assumed that if you're doing two things at once, you're not doing either with much care."

"I see." He seemed to mull this over for a moment, then raised his eyes to hers. "This explains a great many things. Thank you for your honesty, Cadet."

She smiled with relief. "Any time. So what's made you so busy, anyhow? Not just your new box of toys, I hope."

He gave her a look that she interpreted as mild exasperation. "The parts are hardly toys. They are vital components to a project."

"Of course. But that can't be the only reason you're so busy right now."

"Indeed, it is not. I would have picked up the package and inventoried its contents this morning, but my aide for Intermediate Phonology quit unexpectedly and I have been - as humans say - scrambling to replace him."

"Isn't Ben Joshi your TA?"

"He was," Spock said with a note of bitterness. "Captain Jordheim informed me this morning that he messaged her and declined the position, saying that I was _difficult to work with_."

"What?" Uhura failed to keep the shock from her voice. "I mean, you're different than the human professors, and you have high standards, but it's not like you're mean or anything."

"Captain Jordheim seemed surprised as well. She sent Cadet Joshi an email asking for more information, but he has apparently not yet responded."

"Jesus," Uhura breathed, sitting back in her chair and folding her arms. "You think you know somebody, and it turns out he's a coward when it's actually important."

"A coward?"

"Yeah, I would have thought he'd have the decency to say it to your face, instead of hiding behind not only email, but email and Captain Jordheim."

"Perhaps it was more efficient this way."

Uhura pursed her lips. "Perhaps."

"In any case," Spock continued, pointedly ignoring her irritation, "my situation is the same. Since the semester has already begun, it is difficult to find qualified cadets who are interested in applying."

Uhura had a crazy thought, and let it get out before she could think on it. "What about me?"

His glance showed surprise. "You?"

"Sure." She felt foolish already, but decided to just go with it - it was too late to back down now. "I took it with you last year and was at the top of my class. Plus, it would be great for my record. And we both know I don't have any trouble working with you." She really hoped he wouldn't detect the note of fawning in her last statement.

"Unfortunately, you are a second-year cadet, and the position is only open to third and fourth years."

She leaned forward, and did her best not to sound desperate. "You couldn't make an exception?"

"The Academy's policy is clear. Furthermore, such an act of favoritism would be strongly reprimanded, which would harm both of us."

Uhura sat back and tried to sink into the floor as her ears prickled with heat. "Oh."

Spock blinked calmly. "Shall we continue the dictation?"


End file.
